Episodes in the Life of an Inspector
by principalflutist1
Summary: As Javert contemplates suicide, he flashes back to different times in his life. Based off of Will Swenson's portrayal of Javert. He gives him much more depth than any other Javert I have seen. I have not read the book yet, so the stories will not be exact. Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.
1. Chapter 1

As I stood on the bridge, looking down at the Seine, I was tortured by thoughts of Valjean. The man I had hunted for so long. The man I always knew as a dangerous criminal, more animal than man. He broke the law. He has to pay.

Then another thought entered my mind; maybe he is a good man. There is evidence for that. He gives to the poor. He is selfless. But is that just part of his act? How could a gutter rat become a respectable and honorable member of society? _I was a gutter rat, too._

_"Papa!" I would exclaim as my father returned home. He would say nothing, but instead would pick me up in his arms. "Mama has dinner ready," I would tell him as he would carry me to the table. Even when I was only three or four years old, I already had known that people were either good or bad. There was no in between. Papa would lecture me on that every night. Being a police inspector, he would know._

_While we ate, Papa would tell Mama and I stories of the criminals he had dealt with that day. I would listen intently, as I always would when he talked about work. His real-life stories of the law triumphing over the lawless instilled the desire to be just like Papa when I grew up. I thought there was nothing more rewarding than giving those sinners what they deserved. Mama would listen with less interest than I, nodding occasionally while my eyes would light up._

_After we would finish eating, Papa would sit on his chair by the fire and let me sit with him. We would discuss his stories from dinner and analyze what the convict had done wrong, how he had strayed from God. I cherished those nights, sitting his side as he taught me about the fight of good versus evil. Then he would tuck me into bed and retire to his study to pour over some of his case files. On more than one occasion, I would wake up during the night and find him sleeping at his desk, files spread out in front of him. _Being an inspector is time-consuming_ I would think. _But it is the most rewarding job in the world.

_I would take the blanket I had with me and wrap it around his shoulders as I snuggled up next to him for the rest of the night. That's how Mama would find us in the morning. She would wake us up and I would help Papa get ready for work._

_At breakfast, no one would talk, except the occasional request to pass the eggs. Then he would leave for work and I would feel so proud of him. Many times I have tried to go with him, but Mama wouldn't allow it._

I smiled to myself as I recalled the happier times with my father. Before the pain. Before the suffering. Before Jean Valjean.


	2. Chapter 2

As I continued pacing on the bridge, my thoughts wandered to an earlier time, a time I barely remembered.

_Scattered memories. Confusing memories. Pain. Suffering. Hunger. I was young. I could barely walk. I must have been only one year old, if that. I didn't remember much. Just the dirt and the hatred._

_There was a woman. She was always holding me, calling for me. _

_I remember running through the crowded space, dodging many dirty people, looking for any scraps of food that may be around. I didn't find much and was constantly hungry. I see images of filth. I was in the gutter._

I shuddered at the memory. Although I have had that memory all my life, I didn't understand it until I was fourteen, when I learned the truth.

_I had just gotten home from running errands for Mama. I searched the house when she wasn't in the kitchen or living room and finally found her crying in her bedroom._

"_Mama!" I gasped as I ran over to console her. "What's wrong?"_

"_It's your father…" she cried._

"_What about him?" Despite my best efforts, my voice shook with worry._

"_H-he… he… he's dead" She collapsed forward, her head in her arms. I wanted to cry more than anything, but I had to stay strong for Mama. I was all she had left now._

_After the shock had worn off a little, I was able to whisper one word, "how?"_

_Mama hesitated for a moment before answering. "The revolutionaries stormed the Bastille today. He was killed trying to hold them off/"_

"_Did they capture the Bastille?"_

"_Yes." I closed my eyes. The revolution had begun. Papa warned me this would happen. He told me of the unrest in the country. He warned me against trusting the traitors. Now they had killed my father. The man I had looked up to for as long as I can remember. I comforted Mama until she fell asleep, then went into my room. I could not hold back the tears any longer. For the first time in my life, I cried myself to sleep._

_The next morning, Mama woke me up. She gave me a hug and handed me a folded piece of paper. "It's from your father," she told me as she left the room. I unfolded it and read it._

"_Beloved Son,_

_ "If you are reading this, my worst fears have come true. Those traitors have killed me. I am writing to you so you can hear my final wishes directly from me. Your mother will not like this, but I want you to join the National Guard. Continue to fight those traitors. Continue the work I was unable to finish. I have put in a good word for you, and they will let you in, even at your young age. Get your mother out of the country. She will protest, but it is no longer safe for her here. Send her as much money as you can. Be strong for her. You will make me proud._

_ "There is something you should know. I regret that I was taken away before I could tell you, but I want it to still come from me. You are adopted. Your mother was a fortuneteller and your father served in a galley. You were born in the jail where I was a guard. None of the guards knew you were even born. Your mother was kept in a crowded holding cell, and you always remained hidden from the view of the guards. I was walking by the cell with another guard on a routine check when I caught a glimpse of you. We emptied out the cell and you were huddled in the back corner. I will never forget that scared expression on your face._

_ "I picked you up in my arms and carried you into the office while the other guard on duty got the prisoners back into the cell. I cleaned up your cuts and scratches. The other guard came in and asked me what we should do with you. I told him my wife and I would take you in. We had tried several times to have kids, but were unsuccessful. I took you home and you began a new life with us. You were about one and a half at the time. We loved you as we would have a biological child if God had granted us one. This is not the way I wanted to tell you this. I am sorry. Now, make me proud! I love you._

_ Papa"_

_ I folded the letter back up and collapsed onto my bed. I didn't know what to think. The one thing I knew was what to do. I jumped out of bed and, drying me tears, I ran out of the house. On the way out, I told Mama she had to go to Italy. I told her I would arrange everything and send her a letter with the arrangements. I gave her a big hug and told her I loved her. Little did I know that was the last time I would ever see her. I signed up with the National Guard and began training._

_ I got through the training in a year and quickly ascended the ranks. A week after I had sent Mama the letter with the arrangements, I was notified that she was killed trying to escape to Italy. The determination I had to bring the traitors to justice doubled, and it was this determination that got me through the training so quickly. Before I knew it, I was fighting the traitors._

I stopped pacing and stared towards the sky. Clouds were covering the stars and it started to rain. No. It wasn't rain; it was tears. _Pull yourself together1 I am stronger than this._

* * *

The next few chapters will probably be about what Javert was doing during the main parts of the French Revolution/Napoleon's reign. I want to show his life story (kind of) in this fanfic. I couldn't find any info on what he was doing during the revolution, so I am making that stuff up, but all of the historical info is accurate.

I am trying to show Javert as being more than a ruthless inspector and humanize him a bit. Hopefully you die-hards out there won't mind! Reviews are greatly appreciated! Also, any opinions on whether or not he should die at the end or find a new life would be appreciated as well! I want to stay true to the story, but I also don't want to kill him off. He is my favorite character.

~principalflutist1


	3. Chapter 3

I couldn't move. I had let hate and revenge drive me to kill…

_It was a hot, summer day. A crowd was protesting against restoring the king. I was behind Lafayette, who was leading the National Guard at the Champ de Mars. The large crowd had come to sign a petition that demanded the removal of the king. Under Lafayette's leadership, we were able to disperse the crowd. Lafayette ordered me to stay with my men to make sure they didn't come back while his men rested. _

_As the marquis was returning with his men to relieve us, another crowd began forming, this on bigger than the last. We tried to disperse them, but were unsuccessful. They began throwing stones at us. I managed to block many of the stones with my gun, but still got hit a few times. Following Lafayette's orders, I fired a few warning shots into the air. The crowd's response was to throw all of their stones specifically at me. Finally, he ordered us to fire into the crowd._

_I was in a lot of pain from the cuts and bruises caused by the stones, and I could barely lift my weapon. Blood was flowing from a cut above my eye and into my eye. I blindly shot into the crowd as they ran away as quickly as they could. Lafayette ordered us to cease firing. I wiped the blood away from my eye, and saw bodies on the ground. There were twenty or thirty, some men, some women, and even a child. I couldn't move. I didn't know what to think. I just stared at the ghastly sight in front of me. Blood was seeping back into my eye again and I wiped it away with my sleeve. _

"_Javert," Lafayette called me._

"_Yes, sir?" I replied, saluting._

"_Go get yourself cleaned up. You did well today."_

"_Thank you, sir," I said as I headed back to my small house. I cleaned up the blood and was finally able to get some much needed rest._

Remembering the bodies, I suddenly felt guilty. We had slaughtered them. For what? The king was killed only a few years later. What did killing those people accomplish? Who shot the child? Was it me? Did I hit him as I was shooting blindly? Had I killed that innocent child? Was he even innocent? Did he know why he was there? Was he just following his parents? Where did his parents go? Did he know what was happening, why we were shooting? Had he suffered? I had never thought about it like that before. I had never thought about anything like that before. I was just defending the law, right? Or did I have other motives? Was I trying to avenge Papa and Mama's deaths? My thoughts drifted back to the revolution, about a year after the events at Champ de Mars.

_The monarchy had fallen just over a week earlier. The royal family was imprisoned in the Temple, and we were supposed to be "protecting" them. I was leading some men in our protection duties when a messenger came. _

"_Monsieur Javert?" He addressed me._

"_Oui?"_

"_The Marquis… he was removed from his command… and now he has defected."_

"_Defected?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing._

"_Oui, monsieur. He was captured by the Prussian army on his way to Austria." _

"_The Prussian army?"_

"_Oui monsieur… The Prussian army is attacking." I stared at him in disbelief. "Monsieur, the Legislative Assembly would like you to lead the French army against them."_

_I didn't know what to do. Should I take this post? The Legislative Assembly was in charge now. They were making the laws. But would I be betraying Papa's last wishes?_

"_Monsieur?" The messenger brought me back to reality._

"_Sorry. I accept. I will make the Assembly proud."_

_I spent the next month commanding the army against the Prussians. The army was small, unorganized, and didn't trust me. We were not very successful in the war. But then on September 20, 1792 we stopped the Prussian advance near Valmy and caused them to retreat. This victory made us all a lot more positive about the outcome of the war. It was a small victory for us, but it was decisive. _

_The National Convention replaced the Legislative Assembly. Over the next few days the monarchy was abolished, a republic was established, and the National Convention began discussing a new constitution. It was in this moment, I believed I had made the right decision._

_Soon, the king's trial for treason began. More than a month later, he was executed at the guillotine. I fought small battles with my men, who now trusted me more, until February. France declared war on the Netherlands and Great Britain. My job got much more complicated. Later that month, the military conscription added 300,000 men to the army, but it still wasn't enough. There was no way we could fight two countries and keep down the unrest within our country. I was unhappy with the Assembly, but I kept my mouth shut. I trusted the law, and they made the laws._

_In March, the government declared war on Spain. There were Catholic and Royalist revolts in the western parts of the country. The army was spread so thin, we could barely get anything accomplished. I had less than the ideal number of men under my command, so I had to resort to a guerilla-like warfare technique to get anything accomplished at all. _

_In May, a maximum price for bread was set. This caused many of the riots to stop. We could focus more attention on the war. In June, a constitution was finally approved, but they suspended it for the duration of the war and time of national emergency. It was never put into effect. On August 2__nd__, I had to transfer Marie Antoinette to the Concierge Prison. On the 23__rd__ of the same month, the "levee en masse" ordered all male citizens to serve in the army. The reinforcements were much needed._

_On September 5__th__, Robespierre declared terror the order of the day. On the 17__th__, the Law of Suspects was enacted. Because of my previous membership with the National Guard, I was arrested and thrown into the Concierge Prison, the same prison I escorted Marie Antoinette to. _

I felt my wrists. The scars were still there. I recalled the pain, and how close I had come to being executed. I let out a dry, humorous laugh. Once again, I was close to death.

* * *

Sorry that took so long to upload! A lot of research had to be done... All of the details of the revolution are more or less accurate. I should probably finish the French Revolution in the next chapter.

Please review! I'm thinking there might be some suspense in the next chapter... I'll try not to take to long to write it, but I have drivers ed all of next week, so I don't know how much time I will have to write. I'll try to get at least one chapter a week.

~principalflutist1


	4. Chapter 4

Close to death. The words echoed in my head. Was I ready to die? Suicide is against God, after all. But was there another way out? I couldn't think of one. I had to go against my duty to the law and let Valjean go or go against God and arrest a good man. My mind went back to the prison.

_I sat in the cell that was overcrowded with men who had done nothing wrong. Many of the men had served under me in the National Guard. On the 16__th__ of October, we received news that Marie Antoinette had been executed. We held a brief moment of silence in her memory._

_Some time in February, some guards came into the prison. "Stand up!" they shouted at us. We all scrambled up. It was painful to move with the shackles around our wrists and ankles, which were meant to keep us from trying to escape. "We have come to inform you that as per the Ventôse decrees, your property will be seized and distributed to patriots in need. We will take you one at a time and you will tell us all of the property that you own." They began to call us, but no one came back. After what felt like an eternity, one of the guards called my name.''_

"_Alain Javert!" A guard yelled. I went to the door of the cell, which the guard unlocked, quickly pulled me through, and relocked. He pushed me down many hallways to a small room. Inside, there was a hard wood chair with metal straps for the legs, waist, chest, arms, and neck. I gulped nervously at the sight. There were three guards in the room. The guard holding me shoved me in and shut the door. With the other guards, he stripped me of my clothes and unlocked my shackles. They pushed me into the chair and secured the metal straps tightly. I could barely breathe. Then they walked out and locked the door. _

_As I sat in the chair in the pitch-black room, I heard screaming from other rooms. I was suddenly very nervous about what they would do to me. After what I could guess was about four hours, two guards came in and lit a fire in the fireplace and put a pot with a handle sticking out of it over the fire. They left again. At least there was some light now. _

_Around half an hour later, two men walked in. One stood right in front of me and the other walked over to the fire. He had a glove on. _

"_Alain Javert?" The man in front of me asked. I just glared at him. "You will answer me when I talk to you." He went behind the chair, and the strap around my chest tightened. I felt like I was suffocating. The man came back in front of me. "Are you Alain Javert?"_

"_Yes," I managed to gulp._

"_Yes, _sir,_" he corrected. "Do you know why you were arrested?"_

"_I was a leader in the National Guard before the Prussians attacked, sir" It took all of my concentration to not say the last word sarcastically._

"_Now. Since you are an enemy of the revolution, your property will be seized and given to someone who needs it. Tell us, where do you own property?"_

"_14 rue de Pontoise in Méry-sur-Oise," I choked out. He wrote down the address._

"_Any others?"_

"_No, sir."_

"_LIAR!" He spat. "I know that street and it is only small houses. Surely someone of your former rank would own more property somewhere."_

"_I don't, sir! I live alone and am not home often."_

"_Ferrand!" He shouted. The man standing by the fire grabbed the handle with his gloved hand. As he walked closer, I saw that there was some sort of dark liquid in a ladle. All I could tell was it was hot. He got near me. He came right in front of me and slowly poured the hot liquid onto my chest. I screamed out in pain. "I repeat," the first man said as the other, Ferrand, walked back to the fire, "Do you own any other property?"_

"_No," I managed to say through the pain. "I do not waste money on such frivolous things as multiple properties."_

"_Very well," the interrogator said, standing up. He tightened the straps binding me to the chair and left the room without another word. I was barely getting enough air to stay alive. _

_After a few hours, some guards walked in. They undid the straps and I collapsed onto my knees. They pulled some rather itchy clothes onto my bare skin and laughed when they saw the burns on my chest. They put heavier shackles on me than I was wearing before and dragged me to a different cell, one that was meant for four people but already contained seven. I recognized them from my time with the National Guard. The cell had obviously never been cleaned, which I discovered as I was thrown onto the floor of it and the door was locked behind me. _

My hand went to the place where I still have scars from that hot liquid. Tear continued to fall as I recalled the painful memory.

_Not too long after the interrogation, if you could even call it that, terror filled the prison. Guards informed us that Robespierre had essentially taken over the government. We all knew what that meant: France had a merciless dictator and we would all be dead soon. For several months, tension was high in the prison. People began to disappear. Our small cell went from eight to five. _

_In what I later found out to be early June, the Law of 22 Prairial was signed. It sped up judicial procedures, leading to mass trials and executions. People were disappearing at a rapid pace. Eventually, I was the only one left in my cell and there were very few others in the prison. We were consolidated into just a few cells and told we were going to trial. _

_The trial, which was certainly not the right term for the "judicial proceedings," was very short. We were all found guilty and sentenced to the guillotine. We were kept in a holding cell overnight and were to be executed the next morning, July 27. We stayed up all night, unable to sleep, and prayed that a miracle would happen and we would not be killed._

_The next day came. The guards brought us out to the guillotine. Robespierre was making a speech about why we were being executed. I was toward the end of the line. They brought the first man to the guillotine. I had to turn away as I heard the blade come down. I got closer and closer to the front of the line. The man three people in front of me was brought to the guillotine. I recognize him. He was my second in command in the National Guard. "No!" I screamed as the blade came down, ending the life of the man who was closest I considered to a friend. Everyone turned to me. _

"_He's next," Robespierre ordered. I swallowed nervously as I was dragged to the guillotine. I lied down on the hard wood surface, staring up at the blade. They strapped me down and I closed my eyes. "God save my soul," I thought to myself. I waited for the blade to come down and end the pain. I kept waiting. It didn't come. _

"_You're under arrest," I heard a man's voice say. I opened my eyes. There was a guard standing in front of Robespierre._

"_Excusez-moi?" Robespierre asked him. More guards came and arrested the dictator. One came over and rescued me from my deathbed. This was the miracle I prayed for. _

_After being freed, I went immediately to the church. I spent the rest of the day and well into the night there, praying and thanking God for sparing my life. The bishop allowed me to stay there until I had earned enough money to buy myself a new house. I started my life from scratch. I joined the police force and eventually was able to buy myself a small house on the outskirts of Paris. Soon after I was released, Robespierre was executed with around 150 of his supporters. I quickly ascended the ranks of the police force throughout the reign of the Directory and the Directorate. When Napoleon became first consul, he gave me a job as a guard at a small prison in the southern part of the country, where I worked for four years._

God was looking after me that day when I was almost killed. I had always been a religious man, but it was on that day that I became a devout Catholic and devoted my life to God. My life had been spared, and now I was about to throw it away. Could I get rid of something that God had already saved? But there is no other option, is there?

* * *

Sorry it took me so long to update! I have been very busy and this chapter took a surprising amount of research. I want this story to be as factual as possible, and although I remember quite a lot about the French revolution from history class a few years ago, I needed details. I wanted to show that it isn't just on the bridge where Javert suffers and I wanted to get him into the police somehow and this is what I came up with. I actually had quite a lot of fun writing this chapter. I made Javert's first name Alain, because one of it's translations is stone, which I thought fit him because his "heart is stone." I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll try to update sooner. Please review and follow the story so you know when I update!

~principalflutist1


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